


Deeply and Overwhelmingly

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drama, During Canon, First Time, Horror, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-05-21
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:49:47
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8707699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: The day after Lucifer summons Death, the boys are recuperating at Bobby's house, but things are about to get interesting with the Pale Rider thrown into the mix. The Wincest is coming, the Wincest is coming...oh. Spoilers probably for the whole series.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Sam woke with that particular sour taste in his mouth that follows a night of hard drinking. He smacked his lips a few times to try and dilute the taste and sat up under the covers of the most familiar bed he had known in many years. The feeling of the tattered patchwork covers would be itchy and smell like years of neglect to most, but Sam loved them. Bobby’s house was a wreck of the type that usually happens when there is not a woman to keep things in order, but to the Winchester boys, it was the only home they had known in a long time.

 

Archaic books and papers covered nearly every blank stretch of colorless surface in Bobby’s house, and the upstairs room he shared with Dean was no exception. Stacks of old newspapers sat rotting in the corner and the double doors of the closet were thrown wide hiding an arsenal of guns, knives and various ammunitions. The only source of light to illuminate the mess was a slanting swath of sunlight cutting in from a westward facing window. At lease it was morning and not directly in his eyes. 

Sam always had the bed by the window, it didn’t matter what kind of place they were sleeping in, and he supposed it stemmed from Dean’s paternal need to be the protector. Their dad had always taught them to be where one could see the exits to every room, and Dean always took the bed by the door so that, in his perspective, he would be the first intercept that the danger encountered on its way to them. Sam couldn’t help smile as the thought causes him to gaze over at the other twin bed in the room. Dean slept on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes to block the light, and a thin sheen of drool dripped from his slightly open mouth. One leg hangs off the side of the bed, the other hitched to the side at nearly impossible angle, and his shirt has ridden up in the night revealing a tantalizing stretch of taunt skin. 

 

Sam turns away on that thought, blushing slightly, trying to force the ideas out of his head about why the word tantalizing came to mind in a thought about his brother, and decides to join the world of the waking. He dresses briefly, and visits the bathroom across the hall from their room, before he notices the smell of bacon sizzling downstairs. His hung-over brain drools at the idea of a breakfast that didn’t pop out of the bottom of a vending machine. Bobby is awake, as usual, and has been cooking for a while by the looks of the stack of toast, eggs, and sausages waiting to be devoured, though how he managed to do all that in a wheelchair was beyond Sam’s considerable deductive abilities. He thinks about offering to help Bobby for a moment, decides he doesn’t want the lecture, and picks a chair at the table to sit in.

“Geez, Bobby, you would think this was the end of the world or something the way you are cooking.” Sam teases, and sits down at the table.

 

Bobby scoffs at him with a half smile, “Just thought we should face the end of days with full stomachs.” He replies half jokingly in return.

 

They continue their morning in silence for the most part, and Sam pours a glass of orange juice as he nibbles on a square of toast. Faint cursing, and thumping drifting from upstairs alerts them that Dean is now awake, and there is rather more noise than is necessary as he practically gallops down the stairs. Sam knows the smell of a cooked meal is the best alarm clock in the world for his brother.

 

“Thanks for waking me jerk,” he chastises teasingly to his brother, “think you are gonna eat all this food without me huh?”

 

“You were just so cute sleeping; I thought I would leave you to it. It’s your own fault if your beauty rest interferes with your breakfast!” Sam retorts with a smirk, and is just sharp eyed enough to catch the blush on Dean’s face before he turns away with the guise of getting milk from the fridge. The younger Winchester couldn’t figure out what had gotten into him, having odd thoughts about his brother, and was trying to decide if this had always been the case or if it was a new development.

 

“You two settle down, we have a lot of work to do and I don’t want you two bickering like teenagers the whole time.” 

 

“He started it.” The brothers both chant in unison, and it is a testament to the severity of their situation that no one can muster more than a smile.

 

The trio gathers round and they eat in silence, the only sounds are the occasional clink of glassware on the table as they lift a glass or fork. They all watch each other closely; though observational skills are so common in their lives none of them thinks it odd they are being studied in turn by each other. All three have dark circles under their eyes, and six eyes are red and swollen from tears no one will admit they shed for their fallen comrades. Sam thinks about Jo and Ellen briefly and his throat closes up. He still can’t picture them as gone; instead he decides that they will live in a happy place in his memories until such a time when he could grieve for them properly. They deserved better, he thought, a proper burial with all their friends and family, but they weren’t normal just like Sam and Dean, and when you aren’t normal, you rarely get what you deserve. 

 

“So what do you think the next step should be?” Dean asks the room at large and by the vacant look in his eyes, as he stares down into his plate, Sam knows he is thinking of them too.

 

Bobby sighs and sets down his fork, “I suppose, now that we have Death running around loose too, and we know the Colt won’t work on the Devil, we sit and wait.”

Dean hits his fist hard against the table, “No way,” he protests, and the usual fire is back in his voice, “We can’t just wait for them to come and catch us with our pants down!”

 

Bobby holds up his hands in a peaceful manner, “I agree son, but what other option do we have? The Devil himself now has the real live Death on his side what else can we do?”

 

“I don’t think he would use Death against us though, after all he still needs my body to be his vessel.” Sam puts in wisely and is rewarded with a guarded look from Dean. Something that has been happening more frequently as of late, though Sam knows he cannot blame Dean for the choices he made drinking demons blood.

 

“Satan won’t use death against you Sammy, but Bobby and I are fair game; I’m supposed to be the freaking vessel of his enemy the archangel, remember?”

Sam can’t argue with the logic of this, it is a true enough statement, but mostly he can only focus on Dean’s use of his nickname ‘Sammy’. Dean hadn’t called him that in a while, not since they had been separated physically and emotionally after Sam’s detoxification of demon blood. The events of the previous few days had him thinking again how important family was, considering the remainder of his family was currently sitting in the same room with him. Dean must be thinking the same thing, Sam thought, and finally hoped they could put his horrible choices behind them and once again be what they were before the Devil, before the apocalypse, and before hell.

 

They lapsed into silence again as each man considered the possibilities of what was to come, but a soft flutter of noise from the doorway to the kitchen drew the attention of all at the table. Castiel stood there, his usual trench coat muddy and torn. His face sported a large purple bruise to the cheek like a great flower blooming beneath the skin. The brothers jumped up, knocking their chairs down with them.

 

“Castiel?! What happened?” Dean demands and closes the distance between him and the angel in a few quick strides.

 

“It is nothing; this body simply needs time to heal.” Castiel replies in his usual half confused tone, as if not quite sure why anyone would be concerned about him, “I went back to the burial site, after bringing the two of you here, and it was mass chaos. Most of the demons, if not all of them had gone berserk, killing each other and stabbing at random. I had to fight with one of them.”

 

“Why in the name of hell were they going crazy? I thought that they would all just drop dead, sacrificed to bring Death.” Bobby said, rolling closer to the angel, and motioning for him to sit down, which Castiel did not do.

 

“I don’t know. The demons souls should have been absorbed to create the power necessary to pull Death from his slumber, and the human bodies would have woken up, or died with the demon, this I do not recognize as part of the ritual.” He admits, and doesn’t bother to wipe the blood from his lip as it trickles down his chin. 

 

Sam gets a cloth hanging from a handle on the oven, and cautiously with much hesitation, wipes the grime away from the angels lip as if he would explode at any moment. Unaccustomed to human rules of tact and personal space, Castiel simply thanks him and nods. Sam and Dean exchange a curious look and the taller brother shrugs, they had come to think of the angel as their socially awkward little brother who could kick all their asses, but needed his hand held in public sometimes.

 

“Neither do I,” Bobby continues the conversation as if nothing had transpired; “I have never heard of a ritual where the sacrifice doesn’t die, and I have read many stories about Death summoning.”

 

“Indeed,” Castiel agrees, “It would also appear that some of my powers have been… ah, revoked?”

 

“The bruise and blood.” Sam offers, before Castiel would have been able to heal himself of such minor problems very easily. 

 

“How would something like that happen?” Dean asks.

Castiel takes a deep breath, and new to his human body he doesn’t know how to hide the subtle display of pain that flashes across his dark eyes, “It appears as if God has forsaken me.”

 

They are all silent, pondering the ramifications of such a statement. Castiel had come to be their back up, their fail proof plan when they needed help. He was always getting them out of tight situations with his unearthly powers.

 

“Well at least you can use your mojo to zap us where we need to be, I mean you did that last night, my stomach is still rolling.” Dean tries to lighten the mood.

 

“It would appear only some of my minor powers have been cancelled, I can still do what needs to be done in the fight ahead.”

 

“So maybe your powers haven’t been taken away, maybe there is some force other than God, or whoever, that’s getting in the way of your power.” Bobby suggests.

 

A moment of thinking passes and Sam says, “Could Death have something to do with it? I mean a gathering of power like that could be like an electromagnetic pulse on electronic equipment, makes some parts, if not all of it stop working.”

 

Dean narrows his eyes as he stares at his brother, “Geek,” he hisses under his breath.

 

“Jerk.” Sam quips back, knowing they were subtle enough in their own secret body language to read each other without giving away their short conversation to Bobby, though whether or not the angel heard them he didn’t comment.

 

“So, what’s do you think should be our next step Castiel? Did you see anything other than the raging demons in Carthage that might help us plan our next move?”

 

“I didn’t have time enough to see what was happening in Carthage, though I can tell you what I know about Death, my knowledge only comes from stories and angel myth. Death, as an entity was originally an angel, much like my brother Lucifer,” Castiel had their undivided attention at these words, and had they not been so composed there would have been gasps all around the room.

 

“Are you freaking kidding me, more angels?!” Dean punches the air angrily accenting his frustration.

 

“An angel at one time, but no more, all I know of him is what I have already said, he was an angel, but he did not fall like Lucifer, the legends say he chose the path that God offered all angels, and leapt from Heaven of his own accord. Why I do not know, his name is Azrael.”

 

“What do you become if you are no longer an angel?” Dean ponders aloud.

 

“None of the other angels seem to know. The only other examples we have of angels after they fall are Lucifer, and his Thirteen Fallen.”

 

“What, or who are the Thirteen Fallen?” Sam asks.

 

“The thirteen angels who chose to fallow Lucifer after he fell, and became his generals in hell. Alastair, and Azazel were two,” the angel replies, nodding to Dean who unconsciously shudders. 

 

“Well, at least we know there are two down,” Sam breathes a sigh of relief which is short lived.

 

“Yes, but if Lucifer should somehow convince Death to release his other eleven generals, they would be an almost unstoppable force.”

 

Bobby clears his throat, “I guess all we can do is hope that Death doesn’t like taking orders.” 

 

 

***************************************************

You like? Review, they keep me writing! Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Watch out for spoilers, probably all the way through the story! Sam meets Death here!

****************************************************  


* * *

In the end the Winchester brothers couldn’t stay away from Carthage, and with Castiel in the backseat they left Bobby’s salvage yard and roared down the road to Missouri. The trip was mostly uneventful, just miles of highway and Metallica blaring on the radio. Sam kept a constant stream of news on his laptop the whole way, just in case news of Carthage came to them. 

 

Nothing was presenting itself until they got closer to the town and found the local weather report on the radio, and even then, the hint was subtle. Locals had reported what looked like storm clouds hanging over the town, but it seemed to be a really isolated storm. Something so strange could be explained away by science in many ways, but the trio in the car knew better from years of experience.

 

“What do you think that means? I’ve never heard of a storm only over one town.” Sam says dejectedly. The brothers had seen some strange things, powerful supernatural occurrences, but something that actually affected the atmosphere on a large scale had to be of immense power.

 

“Many times, when an angel descends in its heavenly form to Earth, the weather is affected by the force.” Castiel offers.

 

“So this is more proof that this guy is some supped up angel?” says Dean.

 

There are general nods of agreement, they had to go with their best guess on this one, and hope that whatever Death turned out to be he was in the mood to be in a war between heaven and hell. There had been a conversation about whether the Colt was even worth trying, when Dean so cleverly pointed out, “Dude, it’s freaking death, of course you can’t kill it, then no one would die.” And they couldn’t find a way to argue with this logic, but just in case the Colt was safely tucked away in a box in the trunk.

 

When they got their first view of Carthage nothing looked out of place accept for the swirling dark clouds that crossed the expanse of the city, and stretched as far as they could see. Either the storm was growing or they locals had underestimated the size of it. The town looked mostly normal from afar, but as the Impala drove into the city they began to notices abnormalities.

 

Most noticeably, there were no people anywhere in the town. Shop doors hung open as if their occupants had just vacated the area. Outdoor café tables still had food on them, and cars were still idling. Only mannequins left in clothing windows kept an eerie vigil over the ruins of what was surely once a nice little town. After getting through the shock of realizing they were in a dead town, another curious anomaly caught their eye. Over every surface was a fine dust of what looked too grey to be snow.

 

“What is all that?” Dean asks, and Sam opens the door as the Impala is rolling at a crawl and brushes his hand on the pavement.

 

“It’s ash.” Sam says dusting of his hands, and all eyes turn skyward, but there was no ash falling from the sky.

“Damn, just thought we might have been in Silent Hill.” Dean breathes in relief, and is rewarded with a shake of the head from his brother. 

 

They approached the area where Lucifer had performed the ritual and Dean parked the car. It was quite obvious without venturing very far that the whole area was deserted. Nothing stirred within the crater and there were no signs of bodies anywhere. The place looked as if it had been hit by a small meteor that vaporized all forms of life instantly. Together they walked the perimeter of the crater, looking for any signs of what happened, yet there was nothing, not even the shovel Lucifer had used to dig the hole.

 

“It’s as if all the evidence has been cleaned up,” Sam says looking skyward, though it was hard to see through the trees, “Even the clouds are thinning out.”

 

“There is also no sign of Lucifer. I don’t even feel a lingering of his spiritual presents.” Castiel says.

 

They investigate for a while longer before deciding that there is no information to be found in the town, and rather confused, head back to the Impala. Many thoughts are racing through their heads, mostly about what happened to the bodies, and what was going to happen next. Nothing good had yet come from a town of missing people.

 

“I suggest we stay close, for a lack of a better alternative,” Castiel suggests and gestures to a flashing motel sign a few miles up the road. 

 

“Oh, no way man! We are not staying in a ghost town, I want food and water and television, and mostly, people!” protests Dean, and Sam automatically follows him to the Impala.

 

“Fine, but stay nearby, I think I will see if can find out what happened to the Reapers.” The angel says and promptly disappears.

 

“Freaking angels,” Dean mutters and the Impala roars to life, “I’m sick of this whole damned apocalypse; towns missing, horsemen driving cars, the freaking Devil.”

 

“I know what you mean man. I would feel better if I knew where Death or at least Lucifer was.”

 

“Yeah, no kidding, but I guess he won’t just come up to us and introduce himself huh?”

 

“No, we are not that lucky.” Sam agrees.

 

*

 

They end up at a motel just outside of the town off the highway; this one had yellow duck wallpaper and giraffe lamps. It looked as if a nursery had vomited in the room. Sam decided it had to be one of the top five worst rooms they had ever had, and habitually put his duffle bag down on the bed by the window. At least this room did have two beds, sometimes they were stuck with only a queen sized bed to share, and Sam didn’t think his heart, or his imagination could take such a blow at that moment.

 

Worst still was the fact that Dean was always prancing around in his boxers after he got settled somewhere. Before this would have never have phases Sam, and again he couldn’t help wonder if he had always felt so oddly around his brother before. He could remember having admired Dean and his nicely chiseled body as a kid, but when did the thought of that body turn his face red?

 

His only conclusion was that it was related to the shock of losing Jo and Ellen, and must be related to his new found appreciation for life that always followed any tragic death in their lives. These revelations couldn’t keep Sam from studying his brother though, watching him to see if there truly was some deep level of difference 

in their relationship.

 

“I’m going out to get something to eat from that burger joint up the street,” Dean announces, snatching his keys off the counter, at least this time he hadn’t taken off his pants yet, “you want your usual?”

 

“Yeah,” Sam agrees and wishes he could stop thinking about Dean’s damn boxers shorts.

 

With the older brother out of the room the younger breathes a sigh of relief, and decides to take a shower to try and wash away his thoughts. The bathroom is even worse, with baby blue tile, and the ever present yellow ducks on the shower curtain. Even the towels have smiling baby animals on them, and trying not to think about what kind of sick person ran the place, Sam turned the shower on full force.

 

This was one of the very few showers Sam had taken that didn’t involve rivulets of blood and dirt washing away under him. Most of the time they were fresh off the hunt, and when they were lucky enough to find a motel nearby, and not just the Impala, the brothers took advantage of a hot shower. Better enjoy it Sam thought, and stayed in the steaming heat until the water began to run cold.

 

Thinking that Dean must surely be back by now, he shuts off the flow and steps out. While toweling off he realizes that he has not brought his clothes in with him, and cursing his luck, silently prays Dean isn’t back yet. Horrible baby animal towel around his slender waist he peeks out the slightly open bathroom door. It doesn’t appear Dean is back yet, what luck.

 

As he makes a dash for his clothing however the motel room door swings open and in walks his brother with arms full of greasy diner food. He is rewarded with an oblique view of Sam’s toweled behind bending to reach his discarded clothing. Sam, suddenly in a panic, snatches the clothes and makes a mad bee line for the bathroom. He is certain Dean will be teasing him forever about this, but he can’t quite explain the wide eyed ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look on Dean’s face as he shuts the bathroom door.

 

The older brother has to make a conscious effort to remind his hear t to keep beating after the scene he had just witnessed. This was nothing new to him; he had seen Sam in various states of undress many times before, it was something that happened when you were together almost every waking moment of the past five years. Yet the sight never ceased to affect him in ways he hated himself for, it was just getting surprised like that in the doorway with such a tantalizing view broke through the schooled look he managed to keep on his face around his brother.

 

Neither of them mentioned the incident as they ate their food in silence, flipping through the motel channels and acting as if nothing was strange between them. Of course neither knew the other was thinking along the same lines.

 

They discussed what they had seen in Carthage a little more, but with no new information all they could do was hope Castiel found the Reapers, and try and get some rest. Though it didn’t come easily for Sam as Dean was in his damn boxers again, he tossed and turned for a while, and when sleep hadn’t claimed him for several hours decided to go and get a soda from the motel drink machine.

 

He shuts the door quietly behind him so as not to disturb his softly snoring brother and immediately noticed a sparkling white ’64 Mustang parked next to his brothers Impala. It wasn’t every day you saw a classic car, much less two side by side, and he took a moment to inspect the glistening chrome, and admire the upkeep the owner had maintained on the vehicle. It looked as if it had literally rolled off the assembly line that morning.

 

As he turned back to the soda machine he almost ran into a man that equaled him in height. He was instantly startled and long trained reflexes kicked in, making him jump backward and take a fighting stance.

 

“Don’t worry, I don’t wish to hurt you.” The stranger says in deep, raspy voice that sounds as if the vocal chords haven’t worked in years.

 

He was the same height as Sam, with a rather forgettable face; dark brown hair brushed his face and curled slightly at the ends. It was the eyes, deep and vibrant violet that put Sam on edge however, “Who are you?” he asks.

 

“I have many names, Thanatos, Javed, Markandeya, Yama, Azrael,” he says rather offhandedly as if it weren’t important. The last name sparks Sam’s memory however and suddenly everything clicked into place, white Mustang equals the Pale Rider.

 

“I know who you are.” Sam says and feels rather stupid for it.

 

“Excellent, then we can skip the pleasantries as I know who you are as well Samuel Winchester. I wish to speak with you for a while if you will permit it.” He spoke eloquently, enunciating every word clearly and precisely, and his voice seemed to carry an accent that Sam couldn’t place it seemed to be every accent at once.

 

“Alright,” Sam agrees as easily as if he were talking with Dean, something about the man calmed him.

Death motions to the white Mustang and without a second thought Sam takes the passenger’s seat next to the man. 

Everything in his brain would normally be screaming to run, but the violet eyed stranger had such a gentle manner, and soft presence that he couldn’t help but stay and listen to what he had to say.

 

“I am assuming you know who has summoned me here,” he begins, and Sam nods in reply, “then you will know what is going on in this world. I have been awakened from decade’s worth of slumber Sam, though it was not by Lucifer. I have only been awake for a few short years, and what roused me was a great tremor in the life force made by you and your brother.”

 

“What do you mean? How could we be capable of such a thing?”

 

“That is precisely why I have found you Sam. I don’t know how two mortals could be capable of such a feat. You interest me, you and your brother in a way that humans have not in millennia, I wish to know more about the brothers Winchester.” He smiles lazily and Sam is still reeling from how peaceful a creature whose job is to take lives can be.

 

“Can I ask you something?” he queries, afraid that the answer is no. Nothing supernatural ever wanted to supply information about itself.

 

“Of course, I am an open book Sam, but remember there might be secrets that aren’t mine to give.”

Sam nods in understanding, “What happened at Carthage?”

 

Death frowns slightly, “Carthage was unfortunate, and in order for me to take corporeal form a great force is necessary, though the deaths of so many are not required. What your angel friend witnessed when the hominids when berserk was my attempt to save their lives. My presence was too much for them to handle and went insane. I banished the Devil for a time, as punishment for the lives he had force me to take, but he will be back as soon as he finds a suitable vessel.”

 

“So you can banish the Devil, why not just kill him?”

 

“I am afraid life for me is not so black and white. I have not decided whose side I am on yet Sam, and I know where Lucifer stands in this war; I am here to get your story in these events and to learn from you why humankind should be spared.”

 

Sam’s stomach turned, the human race was dependent on how well he and Dean could convince Death himself that mankind deserved to live, “Are you an angel?” he says, though this was not really what he wanted to know.

 

Death smiles at him, “No, I am not an angel, nor was I ever. I first became aware of my own existence as soon as life was born into this universe. I am a condition, a force of nature. Without death there can be no life or the balance of nature would become upset and chaos would ensue. I saw the birth of your race Sam, and I will see its end. I have no name and no life in the terms that you humans define life. You may call me whatever you wish.”

 

Sam nods, his mind racing at the thoughts this being has put in his head, and suddenly he realizes how very tired he is, “I think I’m going to go to bed now.” He says, and it sounds stupid to him, this casual conversation with Death.

 

“Of course, I will ensure your sleep is deep and undisturbed.”


	3. Chapter 3

  
Author's notes: Let me know what you think.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************  


* * *

Dean woke the next morning and as always immediately located his brother. It was a morning ritual that he didn’t notice anymore, something that had started as soon as they were travelling together again. The older Winchester couldn’t stand the thought of not knowing where Sam was, but he was safe, on the bed next to his, sleeping peacefully. 

 

He decided to get up and find them breakfast, which was typical Dean, stomach first, everything else later. He dressed quietly, and approached Sam’s bed try and wake him. Dean called his name softly, and restrained himself from actually shaking his brother awake. He found it hard to come in close contact with Sammy, especially after just waking up. Sam intoxicated him, made his heart rate quicken, and his mouth grow dry.

 

It had always been like that, as soon as Dean was old enough to understand what sexual attraction was he was mortified to find those thoughts there about his brother. His job was to protect Sam, not be the predator and betray his trust and his love with thoughts so sick, so he had done a fantastic job of hiding his true feelings, burying them down so far he himself almost forgot they were there. They were already fucked up enough, adding incest to the equation was just going too far.

 

He decides waking him without physical contact is a lost cause, so he heads out of the room and gets into the Impala. There is no sign of Sam’s chat with Death last night, and the Mustang has gone, leaving not a trace. Dean has no idea of these things though and takes a right at the road in search of food.

 

His options were a burger place, that wasn’t open yet, and a donut shop with a giant red rabbit on the sign, so donuts it was. He got a shock at the register when he met the prettiest girl Dean had seen in a while. Long red curls, and big blue eyes, and features lower than that weren’t bad either. Dean chatted her up for a while, and bought more donuts than he would normally take. The small hit to his wallet was worth it in the game of flirtation.

 

He made sure to add in a wink for good measure as he departed. Maybe he could stop back by later in the day as she was leaving and get some action he thought. Take that hormones. Spending time with beautiful women was fun, but Dean had the suspicion that it was just a way to get Sam out of his head, even for a little while. There he was again, not two minutes away from one of the hottest chicks he had ever seen and thinking of Sam again. It almost made him want to a doctor to remove that part of his brain, just so he could have some peace.

 

He turned the music up loud in the Impala, just to distract himself and sang loudly with the song. He drove slowly back, trying to remember the red head’s name, and not the way Sam looked like in that towel last night. Karen…? Sally…? Those didn’t even sound close he thought, but it didn’t matter he could always scope out her nametag later.

 

The thought of what Sam would think if he could hear his thoughts wormed its way into his brain. He would start pouting and saying what a jerk he was for thinking of that chick like that. The thought of that pout made Dean squirm, many of Sam’s look did, especially the look of utter fear in his eyes last night when he realized Dean had seen him half naked, hair limp and wet curling around his face, mouth half open in surprise.

 

Dean shoved a donut into his mouth as distraction just as he pulled up to the hotel, and busied himself with finding his keys. Sam was still sleeping, but seemed to stir slightly at the sound of the door closing. He didn’t say anything but took the private moment to watch his brother wake and sit up. Sometimes he had to allow himself the guilty pleasure to keep from doing something stupid later. Dean chewed noisily to drown out his thoughts and examined his brother, who looked as if he had just risen from the dead…again.

 

“You must have been exhausted, I couldn’t wake up before.” He says through a mouthful of crumbs.

 

“Yeah, I was tired.” Sam replies and takes a donut before completing the normal first thing in the morning necessities.

 

“You wouldn’t believe the chick in the donut shop, beautiful! Red hair, blue eyes and a great…” Dean says to Sam in the general direction of the bathroom door.

 

“That’s enough, I’m sure everything was great.” Sam cuts in; having no desire to hear about some random girl’s femininity, and his heart gave a little flutter of regret at the thought of their conversation.

 

“Awe come on Sammy, they were amazing.” His brother grins wickedly and waggles his eyebrows at Sam who emerges from the bathroom.

 

“Just shut up and listen to me for a minute, I have to tell you what happened last night,” and Sam begins the tale of his encounter with Death. 

 

Dean listens in awe, slowly chewing on his pastries, with a thoughtful look on his face. He hears the story out and doesn’t interrupt, unusual for him, and all the while the older brother feels his blood pressure rising, he couldn’t believe Sam was out doing something so dangerous without him there to protect him. Then he thought about 

Sam consorting with more evil beings and he felt an overwhelming wave of disappointment.

 

“I can’t believe you were with him alone! What if you had gotten hurt Sammy, you can’t go sneaking out with evil creatures anymore, you are supposed to be clean of the demons blood, what now?” he demands a little too forcefully and a look of utter shock hits Sam’s face.

 

“Don’t start that with me! I wasn’t having some secret liaison with some evil being! It’s Death we are talking about, not Ruby, and I don’t think he’s evil, or good, or anything so don’t put this back on me! I should have waked you up, yes, but I didn’t have time to react okay!” Sam yells back, tears almost forming in his eyes. Neither brother could ever remember Sam being so angry, and it caused them to pause briefly.

 

“Sammy, I’m sorry. Just…what would have happened if he had been there to kill you? I can’t lose you again, it’s happened too many times already.” Dean reveals in a rare moment of utter vulnerability. He was tired of hiding so many things from Sam, maybe if he wasn’t an ass about chick moments all the time his brother wouldn’t leave.

 

Sam was flabbergasted at Dean’s display of emotion, it happens so rarely that he could probably count all the times his brother was flat out honest with him on both hands. All he could do was stare at his brother, wondering when these overwhelming feelings of love and desire had become so strong within him. It was almost as if he couldn’t breathe sometimes.

 

“I won’t leave you again. Never.” 

 

*

 

Once they had gotten themselves under control they could plan the next course of action. Castiel still hadn’t returned with news of the Reapers, so they could only sit and wait for Death to make his next move.

 

“He didn’t say anything to you about when he would 

return?” Dean asked for the hundredth time, making Sam sigh.

 

“No Dean, he told me I would have a deep sleep then I woke up to you and donuts.” Sam replied for the hundredth time.

 

Dean replays the story over again in his mind trying to figure out if anything was said between the lines, “He said he banished Lucifer? Like what back to hell?”

 

“That’s all I can figure, he seems to have a great amount of power over everything, he even hinted that he could kill the Devil if we could convince him that our side was the right one.”

 

Dean finishes the last donut, and wished he hadn’t, trying to think of ways to make Death believe that they were in the right, “So what if the angels get to him first or the demons make him believe they are right. We know how persuasive they are.” 

 

Sam flashes Dean a quick look, that Dean misses the meaning of completely. Sam couldn’t help wonder if that was another crack at him giving into the side of the demons before. Dean never even considered the thought, and this was why they had so many arguments. Simple misunderstanding, mostly because Dean didn’t think before his mouth opened.

 

“Yeah, and I have no idea what to say or do to convince him. What if our reasons don’t appeal to a natural being whose job is taking souls?”

 

“Kinda wish Cass was back.”

 

Dean always hated it when Castiel appeared before them right after he said his name. The angel assured him that angels couldn’t hear their names and be summoned, but Dean had a sneaking suspicion that this was only mostly true. This time was no exception as the angel appeared next to them in the room. His body was now healed of any signs of trauma.

 

“Damnit Cass, don’t do that,” Dean curses, “human beings have a little condition called heart attack!”

“My apologies, I have come to tell you that I have found a Reaper.” The angel replies.

 

Sam asks, “A Reaper, as in singular?”

 

“Yes, I have only been able to locate one since Death’s arrival. It seems that after he arrived, he ordered the other Reaper’s to disperse and keep working normally. He didn’t order more deaths than normal but to continue with the flow of nature.”

 

“Yeah, well listen to this,” Dean replies and motions for Sam to tell his story to the angel.

 

“This is distressing. I felt that if Death were truly an angel, I would be able to convince him to join our cause, and not Lucifer’s, but if we are dealing with a completely alien presence there is no way to know what sympathies he will have,” says Castiel.

 

“He seemed reasonable enough spoke very well and seemed to understand human nature. If Death has been watching us since our creation I would think he would pick up a lot about human nature.” Sam reasons.

 

Dean shakes his head furiously, “Yeah, but if he’s been asleep for decades, who knows how long that is by the standards of someone who judges time by millennia.” 

 

That was a humbling thought, and the others couldn’t help take in the significant of those words, just how long could the apocalypse last if the one they had to prove to that the human race was worth sparing was older than life itself?


	4. Chapter 4

  
Author's notes: Just the boys having fun!  


* * *

Two weeks following Sams encounter with death the brothers Winchester were camping out at Bobby's junkyard. There had been absolutely nothing for them to do since the encounter. Other hunters rolled in and out like the morning fog looking for a lead and asking Bobby what happened to the hunts. There were no ghosts no vampires not even a deranged god to track down and destroy. It was making everyone ancy not having somethign to do, it were as if the entire supernatural world had banded together and were planning something while everyone was busy with the apocalypse.

 

No one was as worried as Dean and he spent every waking moment tinkering with the Impala, removng every  spare fleck of dust he could find which was by that point non existent. He was won't to cursing under his breath, and when Sam happened to join him he could make out random words, most of which were curses. Sam learned more about how cars worked in those two weeks than he ever really cared to know. 

 

Though it was nice watching the summer sun bake his brothers already tanned skin to golden perfection and he tried not to think too much about the path the rivulets of sweat made as they slid their way down his toned body. He had to forget about it when Dean got so hot that he would take his shirt off and wipe down that body with it. Sam spent a lot of time slapping himself mentally those weeks.  

 

All the while bobby would wander around, ever the protective adoptive father barking out orders or coercing Dean into fixing some other vehicle for him. Sam spent the majority of his time researching the history of the grim reaper and cleaning Bobby's messy house for lack of a better suppliment to boredom.

 

Castiel came and went at random though he had little news to share just like everyone else. The angel seemed to be spending his time talking to the other angels and finding someone, or anything, in fact that knew where death might be or if lucifer had found his way back. The demons were even scarce, seemingly not knowing what to do with their master gone.

 

"It just makes me nervous Sammy." Dean contemplated one evening while sitting on Bobby's front porch. It was nice, he had to admit, sitting there with his brother enjoying a slight breeze, drinking lemonade like they were a normal family.

 

"I know, me too, but Cass is on the case and what else can we do until something happens. It's not like we can hunt what's not there." Sam replies his glass, in hand, hanging losely between his knees. 

 

Dean watched him from his peripherals, never quite looking at him full on. This was subconciously how he spent most of his time for many years. He no doubt knew Sam's small idiosynchrosies better than anyone. Such as he knew that the way Sam held his brows together staring off in the distant meant he was nervous and scared. Regardless of what Sam had done, what he had almost become, Dean hated the sight of his baby brother upset. Unfortunately this emotion was on both there faces more and more lately. He felt the sudden urge to make it better, to maybe forget for just a while.

 

"Hey what do you say we get out for a little bit? Go get a drink, I know I sure as hell could use it." Dean quieries suddenly and takes Sam by surprise. 

 

"What, now? What if death can't find us?" he sputters suddenly more nervous.

 

Dean is greatly amused and a huge grin splits his face, "Sam, he found you in a motel, I think Bobby's house should be as easy as finding a starbucks to him." 

 

"Should we invite Bobby?" Sam asks, a small amount of worry in his voice, and there suddenly it is laid out before them. An invitation that could potentially mean someting very different depending on the way one chose to hear the meaning in his voice. 

 

Dean's mind reeled, he sees Sam's question as a way out. If Bobby went with them it would make this a night out with friends. Definately not some kind of date. Dean thought this for one glorious moment, then he relized his brother didn't think of him like that. Sam wouldn't want this to be a date, he didn't feel that way about Dean. 

 

"Naw, he is with some other hunters. We won't be out long." he replies rather digectedly leaving them both slightly crushed and confused.

 

                                      *.    *.    *

 

It turned out to be a good idea going out that night. They ended up at a bar full of pool tables and won almost a thousand dollars hustling pool within the first hour. Their luck, along with several beers a piece brought them into a place where they could forget the apocalypse and just be brothers again. At least for a little while.

 

They laughed like idiots at each other and talked about the good looking waiteress with each other, and they experienced a reawakaning of themselves in a way. Tired souls became whole again with only a few hours of play and they both began to feel they could get through anything together. Then they would remember just how drunk they were.

 

This proved to be a set back as well, for their stupor lowered their senses and Sam managed to neglect noticing the tall man with the violet eyes that sat watching them.

 

They started up a game of darts with a cute pair of sisters an ended up teaching the girls how to play the game. There was a lot of giggling on there part and rather more groping than Sam was comfortable with. Dean reveled in this however and enjoyed the company of the rather forward women. Nothing came of their antics however and Sam was glad to see the back of them because it meant Dean would not be with them tonight.     

 

And so after deciding they were both too drunk to drive, the pair decided just to walk back to Bobby's. It was a cloudless breezy night, and they swayed so close to each other that their hands would occasionally brush with the lightest of touches. Dean was trying not to read too much into this, and not focus on those brief moments of electric contact. 

 

Sam was chatttering away as usual. Pondering nothing and everything aloud. Mostly unimportant things, or topics that have worked themselves in circles because they have no solution. He was talking about nothing in particular when he suddenly went quiet, for so long that Dean began to take notice.

 

"Sam?"

 

His brother lifts his head slightly in acknowledgent but doesn't look away from the scenery.  "I always thought you were really brave, you know, for having gone for so many years in hell without giving in to Alastair. I have never thought you were weak. Nobody could last forever Dean." 

 

The elder Winchester is startled for a moment, and decides to take the compliment without arguing, trying not to read too much into it at the same time, "I'm sorry for being gone so long. I tried everything I could to get back to you, but I just...couldn't. I'm always thinking what if I had been there? You would never had gone with Ruby, and none of this would have happened... I should have tried harder."

 

Sam is shocked and heartbroken at the same time. Shock that Dean was showing so much of himself and heartbreak over his brothers aching words. He cannot speak for moment, and is glad he cannot see his brothers face fully because Dean is staring at his shoes as they shuffle over the gravel road. 

 

"Dean, I..." he pauses and looks around for inspiration, "I know if there was a way, you would have found it. Not everything is always your fault. You don't have to carry around the world, but I do appreciate that you carry mine." he almost whispers the last part. 

 

Dean let's his words wash over him for a moment, basking in a moment of brotherly love because he knows it us all he will ever have.

 

"Truth or dare?" he asks after a while.

 

Sam doesn't pause for long before replying, "Truth."

 

"No fun. Umm, okay, who was your first kiss?" 

 

"What are we thirteen?"

 

"Just answer the question jerkface!"

 

"Cindi Jones, okay?"

 

Dean almosts bursts out laughing, "That little nerd with the galasses?"

 

"Alright jerk who was yours?"

 

"Nuh uh, that's not how the game works. You gotta ask truth or dare."

 

Dan rolls his eyes elaborately at his brother, "alright, truth or dare as if I don't know."

 

Dean makes a show of thinking hard about it."Umm, dare!"

 

" I dare you to interupt Bobby's meeting with your pants around your ankles yelling pudding!" Sam demands with a laugh.

 

"Think I won't?" Dean challenges and Sam has to pick up the pace to keep up with his running brother.

 

That's pretty much what happened to get them, more or less, sent to their room that night. They both lay on there respective beds laying in opposite directions like when they were kids.

 

"Well we didn't know Bobby would be with a client about a car so late when you did that." Sam reasoned. 

 

Dean sniggered, still a little tipsy but greatly sobered from the tongue lashing Bobby had given them, "Yeah did you see the look on his face when I started yelling?"

 

Sam laughed at the immitation his brother made of Bobby's horrorfied face at the site of Dean bursting though the study door without his trousers, "yeah but we didn't finish our game it's my turn."

 

"Ok," Dean says slighlty confused, "truth or dare?"

 

"I'll take dare but keep it in this room I don't want to hear it if he sees us downstairs again!" Sam says feeling rather ironic.

 

"Yeah, okay, that leaves a lot of options." Dean's stomach turns flips at the thought of what he wants to dare Sam to do, "I dare you to give me a massage!"

 

He says it jokingly, knowing it is far less than what he wanted to ask for, but he figured they would really get in trouble if Sam ran screaming from the room claiming Dean was making him kiss his own brother!

 

"Ohh how risqué!" Sam rolls his eyes at Dean, and without further thought mounts the back of Dean's thighs before his brother can protest and begins working long fingers through he knots in his tense back. Sam statled himself a little with that move and made sure to not put too much pressure on Dean's legs in case the older could feel his growing excitement. Why did he agree to this?

 

Dean can't believe his luck when Sam climbs on top of him, and is emenskey grateful that he is laying on his stomach. Sam probably wouldn't accept the friction of a massage as an acceptable excuse for his erection.

 

"Truth or dare?" Sam asks, his voice sounding deeper, huskier which Dean thought he must be imagining. 

 

"Truth."

 

"Who was your first crush?"

 

Dean went still and his heart skipped a beat. It was almost as if he had been caught red handed. For as long as he could remember he had been in love with Sam. He couldn't recall anyone before him, or since that could even come close.

 

Sam notices his sudden tension with worry, "Dean, you okay?"

 

"Yeah," Dean shakes off Sam, not meeting his gaze, "I think I'm going to brave Bobby's wrath and get a soda" he lies and isnout the door before Sam can say anything.

 

The younger of the two sits there in bewilderment, wandering why had just happened and regretting the lack of warmth beneath him.

 

Dean wandered outside, not thinking about where he was going, just needing to get out. Today was all well and good, bu things were going too far and he had to stop hiself. Too many opportunities had been presented today and Dean had almost given away his true self. 

 

"Damnit Sammy!" he curses under his breath.

 

"Telm me about him, your brother I mean." a rather worn out sounding voice calls from the shadows and Dean whips around to a man he doesn't recognize but the deep violet eyes sparks something in his memory.

 

"You." he states with a bit of loathing for having dared speak to his brother.

 

"Me," he replies simply, " I would dearly like to know, more about Sam, and about you as well. Will you permit me the education."

 

"Dude, why should I tel you anything, for all we know you are working with the demons, or maybe even worse the angels, and I want no more part in it, you leave Sammy an me alone."

 

Death cocks his head to the side in contemplation. He is not threatening in any way, and stands with his arms folded slightly awkwardly but in a non threatening manner in front of him. Everything about him looked as if he were soothing a startled animal. 

 

"I do not wish to hurt you Dean. I am here merely to learn."

 

Dean thinks for a moment, "What do you want to know?"

 

"Anything you wish to tell me."

 

Dean shakes his head in exasperation, "Typical of you weirdos, only vague answers and puzzles."

 

Death smiles deeply, and his eyes seem to dance with laughter though he does not laugh, "I am an observer of time Dean, I mean no one any harm because of my function in nature. Without death life cannot begin anew. I am trying to see both sides of this apocalypse issue, I have rarely interferred in human affairs for the entirety of your existence, sometimes for your benefit, other times not, but I will help you Dean, I can stop the devil, the angels, and make your lives right again if you will tell me what I want o know."

 

Dean stares at him warily for a long time, deciding what to say and how much to believe, "Sam is just, Sam. He's smart, funny, but he is sad a lot these days. When I saw the look in his eyes when i first got out of hell I knew I would do anything to protect him from such pain again. I wanted to see that happiness every day. He means more to me than you know, and I will find a way to stop you if you think you can separate us or take him away."

 

"How much does he mean to you?" Death presses.

 

"I just told you! Enough to take out death itself to see him happy!"

 

"You are in love with your brother." it is a staement, not a question and Dean is thrown off guard, "thank you Dean." Death proclaims and without another word is simply gone.  

 

 

   *****************************

 

hope you like! Review!


	5. Chapter 5

  
Author's notes: Were off to Texas!  


* * *

Chapter 5

 

Dean returns to their shared room even more confused than when he had left. It was only made worse by Sam's look of concern, "Did Bobby catch you?"he asks curiously.

 

"What? No... I just met death."

 

Sam's eyes went wide and Dean would have laughed if his heart wasn't so bruised from all of the emotions. Sometimes there was such beauty in his brothers soul that it made him ache with longing.

 

"Well what did he say? It couldn't have been very much you weren't gone for long."

 

Dean shook his head, not knowing what to think about all that was happening, "No, he just told me the same things. That he would help us if we could convince him it's all worthwhile."

 

Sam knew his brother well enough to know when he was lying. Though as strangely as Dean had been acting that night he decided not to comment. Sometimes it was best to let Dean open up at his own pace.

 

"Lets just get some sleep huh?" Dean inquires and his brother can hear a silent plea there.

 

Sam pauses for a moment, dying to say something but daring not too. They don't share another word as Dean turns out the light. Neither brother got very much sleep that night as strange thoughts and images filled their minds. Both ignorant to the fact they were desiring the same things.

 

                                           *.    *.    *

 

Sam was in a fitful moment between waking and slumber, where his dream began to merge with reality and the horrible knocking in his head wasn't the sound of the headboard pounding the wall as Dean took him roughly from behind. Rather it was the sound of furious knocking on the door.

 

Sam shot straight up in the bed, hunter mode kicking in an became fully awake, the tendrils of his dream fading quickly, soon he wouldn't remember it at all. He noticed Dean was up looking worried as well. 

 

 "Wake up you igits!" Bobby was yelling from the other side.

 

The brothers spare each other worried looks before jumping out of bed, and rushing to the door. Dean throws it wide and Bobby is sitting there with the mostly worried, but still a little excited look on his face that he got when there was a hunt waiting for them.

 

"Bobby, what?" Sam asks his voice husky from sleep and his hormonal dream.

 

"You two gotta move it. A whole mess of demons just attacked a small town in Canton, Texas. An old hunting buddy called me for help, they are in a right state, and need some more hands."

 

The two packed quickly, most their belongings never strayed far from the peripheral of their duffels anyway. This made for faster exits. Castiel showed up halfway down the stairs in typical angel fashion, appearing in Bobby's living room and nearly scaring the old hunter out of his wheelchair.

 

"Hey, Cass, what's going on?" Dean asks.

 

"The demons have mobilized, they are attacking a town in Texas. It appears to be something of a gathering." The angel replies, "I have been there, and there is a remnant of great power having discharged there recently, though I could not trace the source."

 

"Death?" Dean and Sam ask simultaneously.

 

"No, this was different, not as old perhaps, but powerful and you can bet he will be there if something is about to happen."

 

"What about Lucifer?" Bobby asks.

 

"Not him either, I can sense when another angel is around. This was no angel, but the aura was completely alien to me."

 

"Well this is freaking fantastic!" Dean throw his hand in the air dramatically, "Now we got something the angel has never seen!"

 

"It doesn't mean you haven't seen it. I have only been on earth a short while after all." Castiel offers.

 

No one even noticed deaths arrival, he appeared leaning against the fire place in Bobby's den, "Here is your first chance boys," he begins, startling everyone. Without hesitation Dean draws the demon knife, ready to defend as always, "there will be no need for that, it wouldn't kill me anyway."

 

"What do you mean first chance?" Sam quieries.

 

Death cocks his head to the side his face unreadable, "first chance to give me a reason why I souldnt just let the apocalypse happen."

 

"Yeah like we could forget!" Dean shouts but doesn't lower his weapon, "I don't understand why I have to prove anything to you."

 

"Im sorry; is your tender pride still smarting from last evening?" he asks, though it doesnt sound vendicive.

 

"I mean you no harm Dean, and what I am is simply a part of nature. I do not kill, I only decide when it is time for the energy you have borrowed to return to where it came. Nothing is infinate, someday all life will be gone. I suppose that day I will die too. I will have reaped the life right out of this universe. Right now I wish to see the continueation of a species with which I dearly love. There will be no more talk about proving anything, you will show me what I seek or the apocalypse will begin with myself holding the reins. Now, shall we go?"

 

                                          *.    *.    *

 

Dean grumbled under his breath, and Sam could catch a few angry curses slipping from his brothers mouth every so often. Granted Sam wasnt all that happy with their situation either, but for very different reasons than his brother.

 

"I mean really Sammy, if he is going to make us be his moral tour guides while he is here you would think he would have decency to zap us all somewhere, but no we have to drive." Dean rants suddenly.

 

Sam has a hard time focusing though as he hears the name only Dean can call him. It is rather erotic in a sick way that only his brother gets the privelage of givin him a nickname  and the use of it catches him off guard.

 

"I could zap us there." Castiel offers from the backseat.

 

"No, dammit Cass you know I hate to get zapped, it's just the principle of it!"

 

"Why would we zap anywhere now we always drive. Besides Death says our lives are too short to ignore the scenery."

 

"God it's like some chick flick crap. And telling us he was in love with our species, what a load of estrogen."

 

Dean is so ridiculous sometimes that Sam just can't believe the older man could really be his brother, they were so different. Yet fundamentally they were very similar. He supposed that's what made a family though, people you loved that had the same core similarities but were diverse enough to balance out where the other was weak or lacking.

 

Sam was starting to realise he couldn't get Dean off his mind. He found himself thinking about his older brother more than was usual. It was rather disconcernig at first. He wasn't sure what had changed between them that made Dean look so different lately.

 

"Oh yeah," Sam began, "and what exactly did Death mean by hurting your tender pride?"

 

"That was most curious." Castiel offers.

 

Dean's eyes dart rapidly around the car, a sign of his nervousness and Sam doesn't miss a second of it, "Oh, you know me. Can't keep my mouth shut, he had to knock me down a peg." 

 

Sam knows it's a lie, can hear it in the tremor in Dean's voice. Yet it' was the most likely thing to have happened that it was a hard lie to find fault in.

 

"I told you before to watch your mouth around people like him. He could really hurt you."

 

"Awe, Sammy, are you worried about me?" Dean says it before his brain has time to shut his mouth.

 

Imediately he tenses up, waiting for the inevitable pain he often feels when he allows too much of himself to be seen. Sam didn't reply however, for long enough that Dean glanced up to check if his brother had even heard him.

 

Sam was staring at him, hard, in a way that Dean had rarely seen on his brother before. It was a look of pain, of sorrow, but a softening around his eyes bespoke of a deeply rooted and unconditional love.

 

"I always worry about you Dean." he says so softly, but so certainly that Deans heart skipped a beat.

 

"That's good Sammy. I always need the extra help."

 

The rest of the trip is relatively silent, no one really spoke but to point out something interesting on the highway. The area between Dallas and Canton was surprisingly lush and green. 

 

Sam was flipping through their dads old journal when he noticed somethig scribbled in the margin of a page on thunder birds, "Hey I think dad knew something about Canton."

 

"Are you kidding me? What does it say?" He demands in his best commanding big brother voice.

 

Sam flips agonizigly through the pages a little longer, ignoring his brother who was coming dangerously close to slapping him, "Not much, its scribbled in a footnote. Canton: Simurgh."

 

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean demands exasperatedly.

 

"The simurgh is an Iranian myth. A great bird so old that it holds within it all of human knowledge." Castiel speaks up unexpectedly.

 

"Where did you pick that up? The angel academy?" Dean quips, smiling at his own joke.

 

"Yes, actually, all angels are required to learn human history." Castiel replies confusedly.

 

Sam tries to hide a chuckle and Dean rolls his eyes. They are about forty miles from Canton, and what is apparantly an unknown bird. This doesn't phase them though as it is just another part of their already strange lives.

 

Though avian adversaries are right up there in the Winchester book of strange. The ride was uneventful until they approached closer to Canton. They hit a stretch of beautiful country side with areas of lush green trees.

 

Sam and Dean were breiefly amused by a farm that sported camels and zebras. People were pumping gas and visiting restaurants, everyday activities that belied what was happening in the town.

 

"At least everyone seems ok."

 

"Yeah, but we have seen this before. Everything seems peaches and cream and then BAM, there are the zombies!"

 

They pull up to a rather unimpressive building claiming pizza for sale. Just as Death had instructed them. As they weren't told to enter the building, they waited in the car to help collect their thoughts.

 

"What now?" Dean asks.

 

Sam shrugs, "I don't know, guess we should just go in."

 

They never get the chance however as a tall, farmiliar figure exits the building. Death emerges from the building very nonchalantly as if he ate there all the time. Dean imediately looks around, wondering if he missed the mustang, but it was no where to be seen.

 

He saunters over to the Impala and as if nothing were unusual and slips into the back seat with Castel, "Alright, I have procured an audience with them, it's up to you now boys."

 

"Wait, what are you talking about, what's up to us?" Sam demands.

 

"We are here to save the simurgh of course."


End file.
